ℑ𝔰𝔫'𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔰𝔬 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔶?

20

Mental Health is important until you're not.

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He finally stood up after staring at the clock on his phone for a few good minutes. He wasn't late getting home or anything, the constant water running down his face was just getting bothersome.

Not to mention the uncomfortable feeling of fabric sticking to him wasn't helping. He was having to brush water out of his hair with his fingers every few minutes.

He groaned at the cold air, getting closer to his house than the beach. It was raining harder by now, to the point where he thought it could be hailing. It was getting colder out and the water felt like he was getting hit with an ice pick.

He shivered, picking up his pace. He could already feel his fingers going numb and his legs becoming stiff. It was so cold he felt ready to fall over and curl into himself in a desperate search for warmth.

He was about to until someone walked up to him, hold an umbrella over his head. They smelled like wet dog. He looked over to see his guidance counselor. Just the person you expect to see near the street you live on, holding a baby blue umbrella over the both of them.

He must have let out a surprised noise, because Hound Dog was already defending himself. "You looked cold and it's pouring, so I thought I'd help out a bit." Izuku raised his eyebrow a bit. "I live nearby." His brow went up higher.

"By a few blocks. And a street. Or two." Izuku glanced at the convenience story bag in his hand. "You can take the umbrella and give it back the next time you're in my office. I'll walk in the rain."

"Nah, I live really close. I can just dry off at home."

And that's how Izuku got an umbrella and a dog. He wasn't allowed to keep either though, too bad so sad. "Wouldn't your mom be mad one of your teachers is in your house without her permission?"

"Nope. I'll get a towel and let you dry off so you don't leave wet." That was the only reason he was actually invited into the house. Izuku may be a little... interesting, but he's not gonna let someone go home soaked.

"You can do whatever, just don't come upstairs." Very simple instructions. Hound Dog didn't want to get anything wet, so he just stayed put and waited for Izuku to come back downstairs.

The boy was surprisingly fast, handing him a beige towel. "Thanks."
"Yup." The atmosphere was rather awkward, making the hero want to leave. "So where is your mom?"

"She had something to do today." He calmly answered, drying his hair with his own towel. "Probably meeting with Nezu." The man said, making his student turn towards him. "Why would she be out with him?"

He could already tell he said the wrong thing, but it was too late to take it back. "He said he had someone go meet today, so I just assumed it would be her." He lied. Izuku furrowed his eyebrows. "Don't lie to me."

Hound Dog had held his breath. "Why are they meeting up today?" The guidance counselor was looking for a way out of the situation. "Oh! Look at that, I'm all dry now! See you when you're at school!"

Before Izuku could protest his leaving the man already had his umbrella opened and was out the door. The boy grit his teeth and threw the towel to the ground, going back upstairs to get changed. Yes, Hound Dog accidentally stole his towel.

"Ugh, it's freezing in here." He grabbed a clean, white Tee shirt and slipped it on, warmer fabric clinging to his shaking body. "Completely dry my ass.." he muttered to himself.

Getting into a paired of clean and dry shorts, he sat on his bed. He groaned as he leaned backwards until he felt his blanket hit his back. He started guiding his hand below the sheets, grabbing hold of something thin that scratched at the wall.

He fiddled with a loose hem of his mattress, pulling it further out until it left a hole in it. He reached in and pulled out a small box that smelled like rot. There were somethings he couldn't simply hide under his bed for his mother to eventually find.

Opening the container, he gagged at the smell. The sight of it didn't bother him much. Simply an eyeball with widened brow irises. There were a few teeth that had yellowed with cracks in them, some broken in half.

"I really do hope you stayed in that dumpster." He molested— I mean felt around until he found the hole again and placed it back. Inside was a needle he could sew it back up with, already attached to the thread.

He rolled onto his stomach and pulled out his phone to see a text from his mom.

I'll be back late because of the rain! I love you!

He didn't reply and just shut his phone off. Looking around his room, he lamented what he was about to do. He stood up and grabbed several things off of his shelves. Jars and taxidermy animals.

Staring at a small cub of a raccoon in his hand, he suddenly felt the urge to vomit. Out of everything, this is the only one that smelled absolutely repulsive. Not that it smells like death, oh no.

It smelled like it did when he found it. Like blood and trash. Looking around, his face started scrunching up. Throwing out so many years of hard work just to please middle school bullies was so pathetic it pained him. The overwhelming smell of formaldehyde and fermentation made him scrunch his face up and turn his head away.

Get it out. Get all of it out. It's disgusting. Kacchan was right, you're a freak. What the hell is wrong with you? You should really just kill yourself. You belong in a psych ward, get some help. You can't be a hero when you do things like this, you killed your classmate for gods sake.